


Frisk Learns Some New Words

by Rakkogaki



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Pre-Canon, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Frisk takes their time, Gen, Humor, One Shot, Piano, Slice of Life, Teleportation, he's gonna get wrecked, sans is extremely lazy, shenanigans to be had
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-14
Updated: 2015-12-14
Packaged: 2018-05-06 17:29:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,976
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5425667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rakkogaki/pseuds/Rakkogaki
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Frisk doesn't appear from the Ruins after months of waiting, Sans starts to see changes in the Undergroud that had never had time to happen before.  The one that concerned him most was Asgore's latest proclamation:</p>
<p>Dangerous puzzles had to be replaced or destroyed.</p>
<p>Sans could care less about the puzzles; the problem is, now people actually expect him to do his job.</p>
<p>A stroke of ingenuity hits Sans while he laments the state of things at his post: a brilliant new way to do as little as possible while still working.  He comes up with a system, and the system works.</p>
<p>Until it doesn't.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Frisk Learns Some New Words

Sans had a system, and the system worked. 

The ebb and flow of the æther was rhythmic and chaotic all at once, a vast paradox that, despite the constant clash of opposing elements, somehow managed to maintain stability. Most of the time. Even with his knowledge of quantum mechanics and the practiced step of a veteran traveller, the sheer magnitude of possibilities existing in every timeline scuttled even the most cursory of Sans’ attempts to grasp time’s complexities. Through careful observation and a lot of trial and error, however, he learned that one could get a bead on certain loci in any given timeline by creating a rough map-like lattice in reference to the more stable elements of time, similar to the way the constellations served as a compass for seafarers despite their inability to comprehend the vast space those iconic stars rested in. The loci pinpointed through this lattice roughly corresponded with locations in the physical realm; this relationship formed the basis of Sans’ teleportation abilities.

Teleportation was an imperfect science; Sans himself couldn’t completely understand the mechanics of the act, and he sometimes found himself having difficulty getting to where he wanted, when he wanted. In all the timelines Sans could remember, however, he had never become as accurate as he was now. He had spent the past couple of months teleporting to increasingly specific spots in the underground, riding the currents of the time stream, hitting closer and closer to the center of the dartboard each time. It had been a frustrating exercise in repetition, but now, finally, the practice paid off. He could enjoy the fruits of his labor.

Besides, despite the repetition, it wasn’t just some trivial endeavor. The work was done out of necessity.

The necessity of expending as little energy as possible. 

Certain people might call Sans things such as “lazy,” or “an old sack of bones,” or say he was “constantly emitting slime”. He liked to think of himself as “efficient”. And efficient he was.

It had all started with a momentous occurance: absolutely nothing. The great portal to the Ruins didn’t creak open, and the kid didn’t stumble through it. The door just stood there, unopened. There were variations in every spin around a new timeline, of course. Sometimes the kid would book it, running into Papyrus’ puzzles before Sans could even make contact with them. Sometimes they would take their good old time in the Ruins, doing who knows what in there before sauntering out. This timeline, though, they were taking their sweet time. Like, really sweet time. It had been months since Sans had last woken up in Snowdin to a calendar thick with pages, full of events experienced but now nonexistent, waiting to be rewritten.

Sans wasn’t sure if something had happened to the kid, or if they were even in there this time around. He tried not to dwell on it, focusing instead on a more immediate problem: he was slowly being coerced into actually working. This timeline had left the monsters mired in the underground longer than ever before, and changes were starting to happen that he hadn’t experienced before. They weren’t exciting changes, though; on the contrary, they were extremely boring.

 

 

The worst of these new developments was the King’s latest proclamation. As droves of monsters emigrated from the overcrowded capital to the outskirts of the city, the king had realized that he finally had to take a decisive step in terms of logistics, for the safety of the people.

“Henceforth, any puzzle that is inherently dangerous in nature or potentially dangerous in the case of misuse must be reclaimed or revised, so that no travellers risk injury en route to their new homes.”

There had been widespread unrest among the citizenry and the Royal Guard.

“These puzzles are our heritage, our tradition! How dare he tell us to dismantle these monuments?”

“The puzzles in Snowdin don’t move, so there’s nothing I can do about them. Sorry everyone.”

“Bro, does this mean we can’t, like, ride the vents anymore? UGH. How are we gonna practice synchronized flying now?”

“Wahaha! Whatever you say, Fluffybuns. Personally, I think the kids need a bit of life-threatening danger now and then to keep their shells from going soft.”

“I don’t know what’s happening, but it sounds like politics. Looks like it’s this bear’s time to shine.”

The saying was true: monsters didn’t appreciate what they had until it was taken away from them. Pro-puzzle factions protested outside the palace, while parents took their children on sightseeing trips to reverently look at colored switches and carpets made of spikes, monsterkind’s great legacy. The kingdom was reaching a fever pitch. 

At the next assembly, Asgore had smothered the dissent effectively; casting his face down in a dark grimace that obscured the pair of normally cheerful eyes, he addressed the sea of monsters before him.

“Friends, the times are changing, and I fear we all must make an effort to tolerate new policies for the sake of society. That includes me myself.”

With those words, he whipped the massive red trident out from under his cloak. Each of the prongs had a large marshmallow impaled on it, rendering it useless. Moved to tears by the tragic display of self-sacrifice, the monsters accepted their fate, steeled their resolve, and prepared to work on the puzzles.

Sans cared about puzzles as much as he cared about picking up his socks. But, as a sentry, recalibrating puzzles was in the job description, and pressure increased as local monsters began to foist responsibility on him. Normally, Sans could dodge Papyrus’ nagging by ceding ground and hiding out in Hotland till his laziness was forgotten, or by telling him terrible puns until he ran away screaming. Now, there were more eyes on him, and the general public was committed to the task as well. He couldn’t sit around and read about cars anymore, not with the world’s puzzles at stake. Being known as the lazy guy was fine, but he didn’t want to earn a reputation as negligent or anti-social. Time to bite the bullet. Maybe this won’t be too bad, Sans thought. Maybe this will shake things up a little bit.

Maybe I was extremely wrong, he thought, after placing corks on every spike trap in a five mile radius. And that was only the beginning. Papyrus and Undyne had gleefully drawn up an itinerary—they called it a battle plan—for him to follow. He had to crack all the slick black ice in Snowdin Forest, because someone could slip and fall. He had to disable the block-moving puzzles in Hotland, because someone could slip the safety barriers and get crushed, or impressionable young children might see the spaceship firing its projectile and be incited to violence. He had to drain the channels of the bridge flower puzzle in Waterfall, because even though the water was practically half a foot deep, someone could trip headfirst into the water and drown. It all sounded so exhausting. So many menial tasks. Going back and forth, back and forth…

That’s when he got the idea for the system.

 

 

“knock knock”

“Who’s there?”

“monster kid”

“…Monster Kid who?”

“you know, monster kid. could ya let me in? i could really use some advil for this headache”

“…”

“eh, maybe that one’s a bit too topical for you”

“I suppose it is. Or maybe I’m just dull? I should sharpen my horns once in a while. Here, I have a new one. It’s a work in progress, though…”

“lay it on me”

“Very well. Knock knock.”

“who’s there?”

“WHOOOOOOoooooooooo………..”

The voice behind the door trailed off.

“…who’s WHOOOOOOoooooooooo………”

“Have you fallen into the well? Someone get help!”

“…”

“Not my best work?”

“no, no. I was just deep in thought”

“Hahaha… You really do always have something witty to say, don’t you?”

“i suppose. i have a lot of time to sit around and think. or, i used to at least”

“Oh dear. Did something happen?”

“yeah, all the old puzzles are being renovated, and i’m a part of the effort. i can’t believe i actually have to do something with my life” 

“That’s wonderful! Our puzzles always have been a bit on the… dangerous side. I can imagine the work is not what you expect after being such a vigilant sentry—“

Sans interrupted with an exaggerated cough in an effort to choke down his laughter.

“—but sometimes a change of pace is nice, don’t you think?”

“sure it is. speaking of busy, my shift’s almost on. i’d stay longer if i could”

“I’m sure we would both enjoy that, but such is life.”

“well… i’ll be around same time tomorrow. take care”

Sans furrowed his brow. He had almost been tempted to ask about the kid, just to see if they were around, or even alive. Curiosity was eating away at him. What’s different this time around? The only thing that held him back was the belated realization that they hadn’t mentioned the kid to him yet in this timeline. If he had asked, she probably would have been curious as to how he knew about the human and, well… that was a can of worms best left unopened. He closed his eyes and, just for a moment, slid out of existence.

 

 

No one noticed the slight ripple in the air by Sans’ station, and no one noticed the slight hint of burnt cinnamon that it emitted into the humid air as he arrived at his destination, the scent of the timestream. Common sense dictated that monsters don’t look for something they aren’t expecting, and not many monsters expected skeletons to appear out of thin air; if someone noticed, they usually just assumed Sans had snuck in while everyone else was actually working, or that it was a trick of the light and he had been there the whole time. 

Beyond that, however, Sans had a hunch that whenever he exited the time stream, some sort of shroud from the void cloaked him upon his exit, masking his approach. If the theory was correct, some sort of force self-corrected the hiccup in the timestream, retroactively erasing the exact moment he appeared while leaving him at his destination unscathed. He had a vague hypothesis that this was some sort of innate self-defense mechanism of the timeline; the only thing that could threaten its existence was something or someone interfering from the inside, and it would be in its best interests to make sure as few entities knew about it as possible. If that’s true, the timeline must hate my guts, Sans thought to himself. Then again, he didn’t have much evidence to support the shroud theory beyond incidental clues discovered while working on his system. It was a wild guess at best. The timeline probably wasn’t sapient, either.

Whatever the cause, the tracks of teleportation had been covered pretty thoroughly. Sans had been reclining in his chair for almost a full minute before someone finally noticed his presence. That someone stormed over to the post, looking more pissed than usual.

“WHERE YA BEEN, BONEHEAD? I’ve been waiting for almost…”

Undyne checked her phone.

“…You’re actually on time. And I think you were on time last shift, too. What’s gotten into you, punk? Did Papyrus finally drill some a work ethic into that skull of yours?”

“nah, i haven’t changed a bit. paps had some ethic to spare, so he boned it to me for a while”

“I’m not even going to respond to that. Papyrus told me not to encourage you. Anyway, on today’s schedule…”

Undyne trailed off for a moment, then turned on her heel and stormed towards the back wall of the cave. She drew herself up, filling her lungs with air, and lunged at the rock surface. Though the blunt sound of the impact resonated throughout the chamber, the wall seemed unfazed by the brutal dropkick it that struck it. She got up off the ground, checked to make sure nothing was broken, then returned to the stand.

“That wall totally winced. Anyway, today we’re… taking the piano puzzle apart.”

She eyed the offending wall again, but decided better of it. It had been irresponsible for her to take anger out on an innocent surface. The scowl on her face, framed by downturned lips, was clearly one of frustration. If he recalled correctly, this particular puzzle was her brainchild. Sans had been incredulous when he heard from Papyrus that Undyne loved the piano and was “the second-greatest musician of the century, right after Mettaton.” 

“do you mind me asking why they want it axed? i’ve never seen a piano hurt anyone before”

Undyne was great at rolling her eyes in exasperation. Still, her stance changed slightly, becoming less combative and more defeated, more resigned to her fate. Sans was flattered that she would jack his style.

“You clearly know NOTHING about human history, you troglodyte. On the surface, pianos drop from the sky and crush people all the time. Pretty scary, huh?”

“the ceiling here is like ten feet tall. that piano isn’t falling anywhere anytime soon”

“I know, right! It’s so stupid! But… an order’s an order. The piano is technically full of hammers. That’s what makes it so badass! It’s literally made of weapons! But that doesn’t fly under the new regime, so out it goes.”

“sheesh, the king’s really serious about this safety thing.”

“That’s what I said, but he wouldn’t budge! He’s such a pushover usually, but this time he’s being difficult. I mean, he’s still my mentor, but it’s like, c’mon! Tear down this wall, Gorebachev!”

“…what?”

“Must’ve been too topical for you, jackass.”

She glanced over at the piano and sighed. A bit of nostalgia was blooming in the wake of the leftover anger on her face. She really did like that thing, huh. He had read Alphys’ Undernet posts about Undyne’s musical talent as well; they were much more believable, but still tainted with obvious bias. He had seen the doctor and the captain together before at official events; Alphys looked as though Undyne like she was the sun, sneaking a peek at her face periodically as though she couldn’t look at directly fish woman due to her brilliance. Definitely not a reliable source. Sans didn’t really hope for anything these days, but he felt a vague inkling that the two should be a pair. It would be more correct, somehow.

“Why don’t you get off your bony butt and help me move this thing, bud?”

“sure, sure. That’s what i’m here for”

He raised his hand and daintily flicked his phalanges. Almost unnoticeable against the cobalt curtains of the cavern walls, the piano turned a shade bluer and began moving at a snail’s pace across the ground. Undyne watched this for about a minute before she snapped.

“Oh my god, Sans. You know what? Get out of here! I’m more efficient by myself anyway. You’re like… some sort of productivity leech, getting fat off of everyone else’s energy! You’ve already distracted me from my job with this talk about piano history! I won’t let you keep me from protecting everyone’s hopes and dreams! Shoo!”

She dismissed him with an angry swing of her arms, indicating where the imaginary door was.

“i’m so ashamed of myself. a leech? jeez, the worst thing you’ve called me before is a snail.”

Undyne snorted.

“Within earshot, maybe.”

“...interesting. lemme be serious though. the piano at your place, that’s not classified as a puzzle, right?

“Yeah. It’s just… my piano.”

“once you’re home, maybe try playing something on it? it’ll probably make you feel better, unless you choose a eulogy or something. there’ll always be a piano somewhere out there waiting to be played, ya know?

The captain looked at him with a cockeyed expression, one eyebrow raised, she was trying to tell if he was joking with her. After a few seconds, she silently returned to the piano and started unlocking the small wheels on each corner, to make sure it would roll properly. Undyne was freakishly strong enough to just pick up the whole thing like it was a balloon, but that would’ve probably seemed too undignified to the piano. Before she turned from Sans, he had seen the makings of a thin smile on her face. He was glad she liked his advice. He really was being serious.

Sans only believed Undyne could play when he saw it with his own eyes. A few months ago, Papyrus had taken him on a “field trip” to culinary school in an effort to get him to do something besides nothing. After the carnage had settled, while Papyrus went to wash sauce out of his joints, Undyne had idly walked over to the piano and started playing, as though she had forgotten Sans wasn’t there. She cracked her fingers, pursed her lips in thought for a moment, and then began chopping away at a haunting melody, one that seemed somehow familiar. It was full of melancholy and wistfulness; you could hear the emotion in every smashed note, every understated chord, even in the occasional mistake. After a time, she had suddenly shifted her position a bit on the stool and changed technique, hands touching the keys with a kind of bouncy delicatness. Suddenly, the melody was mellow and wistful, changed in a heartbeat. She wasn’t a virtuoso, but she more than compensated in originality and expression, and it was clear she knew the melody inside out. Sans recalled the memory for a moment, looking thoughtfully at nothing in particular. Then he was gone.

 

 

He reappeared that evening on the left side of sofa in his humble abode. A cursory glance confirmed Papyrus’ presence; reruns of the MTT Variety Show were playing out on the widescreen, and there the distinct scent of tomatoes was in the air. Also, Papyrus was standing directly in front of him.

“OH MY GOD! SANS, OH. MY. GOD. YOU SCARED THE GOOD FEELINGS OUT OF ME! NOW ALL THAT’S LEFT IS JITTERS AND IRRITATION. WHY DO YOU DO THIS TO YOUR DEAR BROTHER?”

“my b paps, wasn’t on purr-pose”

“THAT PUN DOESN’T EVEN MAKE SENSE! YOU KNOW VERY WELL THAT THERE ARE NO CATS IN AT LEAST A TEN MILE RADIUS THANKS TO THE UNENDING VIGILANCE OF DOGARESSA! WHAT IS THE CONTEXT! WHY ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT CATS?”

“it’s just a joke for the sake of it, bro. there doesn’t have to be a context… no need to protest”

Papyrus was quivering, but only with minor irritation rather than his standard rage. He seemed to be rolling with the punches pretty well, considering the quality of those puns. It must’ve been a good day. Most days for Papyrus were good, but Sans believed there was a distinction between days that were good because something good happened to Papyrus, and days that were good because he was Papyrus. The tall skeleton spoke as if on cue.

“I HEARD FROM UNDYNE THAT YOU HELPED MOVE THE PIANO IN WATERFALL! I’M PLEASED! MY WORK ETHIC MUST HAVE RUBBED OFF ON YOU! MAYBE YOU GOT IT THROUGH OSMOSIS WHILE YOU WERE SLEEPING.”

“ya got me, paps. don’t tell anyone i did work, i have an image to uphold”

Sans gave his brother a lazy wink. Even though he had barely helped at all, he felt proud that his nominal contribution had given Papyrus something to smile about.

“BUT, I ALSO THINK SHE IS TRYING TO HAMSTRING THE RECALIBRATION PROCESS ON PURPOSE! SHE SAID WE HAD TO ‘CHERISH THE HAMMERS,’ AND SHE KEEPS MAKING EXCUSES TO PUT IT OFF! DID YOU PUT THESE DEVIANT, REBELLIOUS THOUGHTS IN HER HEAD?

“nah, she came up with that on her own. she’s a free thinker”

“I DISAGREE! HER THOUGHTS ARE VERY VALUABLE! I WOULD BE UNHAPPY IF SHE GAVE THEM AWAY FOR FREE. ANYWAY, I ALSO DID SOMETHING GOOD TODAY! CAN YOU GUESS WHAT IT WAS?”

“you grew a funny bone?”

“SANS.”

“i forgot you already have a humerus. did you… smooch mettaton?”

“SANS! ALSO NO! WHY WOULD YOU THINK THAT?”

“you told me to guess. did you… recalibrate your puzzles?”

“THE THIRD TIME REALLY IS THE CHARM! I AM SO GLAD I CAME UP WITH THAT MANNERISM! YES, TODAY I RECALIBRATED MY PATENTED ELECTRIC MAZE. ASGORE THOUGHT THE ELECTRIC CURRENTS COULD BE DANGEROUS, SO I REMOVED THEM. ISN’T THAT A GREAT SOLUTION?

“…so now it’s just a field that you have to carry a metal ball across?”

“EXACTLY! ONLY ONE WHO’S HEART IS PURE CAN BEAR THE BALL!”

Sans mind was whirring with “ball bearing” puns, but he had already inflicted enough of his sense of humor on his brother today.

“that sounds real good. i hope I’ll be able to carry that ball if i ever have to”

“OF COURSE YOU WILL SANS. YOUR HEART IS PURE AS THE DRIVEN SNOW! ALSO, THE BALL ISN’T VERY HEAVY.”

“haha. good to hear bro. why don’t we watch the quiz show that’s on next? i’ll tell you a story while we’re waiting.”

“AS LONG AS I STILL GET A BEDTIME STORY”

‘you got it. today’s a two-story day, bro.” 

“WONDERFUL! I’LL CHANGE INTO MY CASUAL ATTIRE WHILE YOU GRAB THE SNACKS!”

“sure thing.”

The cupboard door opened with a gesture, and with a flick of the wrist, a bag of potato chisps sprung off the shelf and towards Sans. He opened his hand wide and caught it as though he was palming a basketball. He was pretty sure he heard some of the chisps break on impact. Good. That just means there are more chisps now. Papyrus called to him from the top of the stairs, having seen the display.

“SANS, COULDN’T YOU JUST GET UP AND GET THE CHIPS? YOU’VE BEEN CONSTANTLY USING MAGIC LATELY! HAVE YOU GIVEN UP ON BEING A SENTRY AND BECOME A MAGICIAN?

Sans’ smile shifted in a queer way, something halfway between an arrogant sneer and a grin, as though he had just told the best joke in the world.

“magic’s more efficient”

“YOU SAY ‘EFFICIENT’ WHEN YOU MEAN ‘LAZY’ SANS. I CRACKED YOUR CODE A LONG TIME AGO. I’M GLAD YOU’RE WORKING, BUT DON’T THINK YOU CAN SLACK OFF HERE! YOU’VE PRACTICALLY BEEN LIVING ON THAT SOFA LATELY.”

The smile widened.

“yeah, but this position is so comfortable. i don’t want to move”

“WELL YOU HAVE TO AT SOME POINT!”

“if you say so”

Sans was leaning back against the sofa cushion, right foot hiked up over left other knee, right hand resting on his right thigh. His left hand rested at his side, ready to summon his magic at a moment’s notice. He kept himself from slouching into the cushion too hard; his spinal column was a bit straighter than usual.

Sans had been sitting in that position for 124 days and counting.

 

 

The system had started as an idle thought. He had been sitting at the Snowdin Forest post, relishing what could possibly be the last days of carefree laziness he would ever spend shirking work. Asgore’s proclamation had spread. Many Snowdin citizens didn’t think the puzzle rehaul would go through first; they assumed the pushback in the Capital will be more than enough to make Asgore reconsider. But Sans had seen the writing on the wall. A few days later, he had seen the marshmallows on the trident, and with that, his fate was sealed.

He wasn’t particularly fond of the mind-blowingly monotonous job of waiting for the kid; selling hot animals on the side was a fun diversion, but it was ultimately a novelty that got tired quickly. He used the same old post, sitting in the same old chair, talking to the same old people…

Sitting in the same old chair.

He dismissed the idea at first. It would be ridiculous, not to mention impossible. It would take him a lifetime to achieve the accuracy, and the prep work would be punishing. But when he was lying awake in bed that night, the concept flitted back into his head and stuck. It was the first thing that captured his interest in a long time. In retrospect, Sans realized he liked the idea because it sat at the intersection of his three major interests: quantum physics, laziness, and humor. He hadn’t really tested his mastery of physics in a long time; he had a foggy memory of overcharging his magic to furiously throw something around like a sack of grain, but it must have been many timelines old. The plan was the pinnacle of laziness, the ultimate ideal that every couch potato strove for, or refused to strive for, because who wants to strive? And finally: if he actually managed to pull it off, it would be freaking hilarious.

Sans started small: two kitchen chairs, facing the same way, on either side of the living room. It was enough of a localized space that his teleportation would retain a fair amount of accuracy; any distance beyond a certain threshold sacrificed consistency. He told Papyrus he was going to play musical chairs by himself and began testing as soon as his brother went to meet Undyne for new orders. It took him about a day to reliably teleport while in a sitting position; there was no difficulty to it mechanically, but he had almost always teleported from a standing position, and it felt unnatural to break that habit. Once he retrained himself, however, the localized testing was a smashing success; he could teleport from one chair to another, remaining in the exact same position when he came out on the other side.

He needed to get an idea of where his accuracy fell off next. He told Papyrus he was going to go play musical chairs in the woods and went to his outpost, making marks in the snow as a gauge of distance. He found he could teleport onto the chair from up to 30 feet. Upon testing from 40 feet, however, something bizarre happened; he teleported into the chair. For a moment, his body clipped through the piece of furniture as though he were in a bugged-out video game, both items existing in the same place simultaneously, at the same point in time. Then he felt a force dragging him out of the chair, and both parties fell into the snow. It had been interesting. It had also incredibly scary. Upon further observation, the chair was perfectly fine. It had been pushed onto its side when it unwound itself from Sans, but was otherwise untouched. Would it be that clean if he accidentally teleported into a living being, though? The mental image almost made him quit teleporting full stop, right then and there.

 

But, an insatiable curiosity had taken hold. He did more testing on inanimate objects: trees, walls, lamps. In his quest for slacker nirvana, Sans had ironically stumbled upon the beginnings of a serious concept. After he was pushed out of objects larger than himself time and time again with no harm upon impact, Sans started to consider the implications of emerging unscathed from these events. Was there some sort of built-in protection involved in teleportation that prevented a catastrophic overlap? Running some shot-in-the-dark tests and calculations in his lab, Sans drew up a rough idea of a temporal veil, some sort of power that protected him from the hazards of the timeline; or, more likely, it protected the timeline from his shenanigans. Sans was actually interested in his work; he almost couldn’t believe it. He decided to proceed with his plan.

Daily training increased his precision in exiting the timestream much more quickly than expected; whenever he would catch a unique-looking spot in the æther, he would make a note of it before being spat out of the void. After hundreds of teleports to random places, Sans had a mental map of the time stream that was one step more precise than before. The extra accuracy was almost completely useless, unless you were trying to do something incredibly stupid and pointless, say, aiming for an object like a chair. In a burst of inspiration, Sans realized that he could also increase accuracy by modifying the physical environment around him: with careful measurement, he could move a chair just an inch, maybe put a book on it to raise the surface height, and make it that much easier to aim at. While honing his teleportation skills, Sans got to work on his common haunts, doing his best to ensure every chair was facing the exact same direction at the exact same height, natural elevation not withstanding. From his meticulous measurements, he extracted a formula that showed him how to calculate optimal chair position. This would allow him to get new chairs, or make his own if necessary, and place them at any spot where his presence would be needed. As long as the chairs swiveled, he would have full mobility. All that was left was more practice and optimization.

Sans had already been a month into the punishing task of recalibrating when he finally felt confident enough to give his system a serious test, with all the variables of the real world affecting him. The inaugural voyage was simple; he started out sitting on the couch in the Snowdin house and suddenly found himself staring into the forest, silhouettes of frightened animals disappearing into the foliage. He was seated comfortably in his chair. He swiveled a bit experimentally. It was a success. He hadn’t moved a bone.

The first thing he did after this triumph was teleport home, grab a chair, and set it up next to the door to the Ruins.

It gave him a rush.

Before he realized the system was viable, like actually viable in practice, Sans hadn’t planned on using it too often; maybe as a party trick for cheating at musical chairs. After the first test, though, he was already at the bottom of the slippery slope. The loci became like tiny homes to him; he wove subtle magic that secured the chairs to the ground and projected an aura that made gravity feel particularly strong in the localized area. Monsters quickly learned to avoid the mystery chairs unless they enjoyed feeling extremely heavy. The first few times he had to go to a chairless location for puzzle calibration, he simply teleported nearby and walked over to his destination like he always did. But the idea kept tugging at the corner of his mind: “Would it actually be possible to go through an entire day sitting down?” He had to try, for science, for laziness, for the ridiculousness of it all. He made it a full day. He made it through the next day, technically giving him a streak of two days. And anyone who has a streak in anything feels naturally compelled to continue it. So the days turned into weeks, and the weeks turned into months.

 

 

Sleeping in a recliner took a bit of time to adjust to, but after only a few weeks, Sans liked it more than sleeping in a bed. His own bed, with its unwashed sheets and lumpy matress, sucked. He woke up, yawned demurely, and pulled a small pad out of his hoodie pocket. It was a calendar. The back page was covered in tallies drawn in thin blue pen. Sans grinned. Today was going to be a good day.

“knock knock”

“Who’s there?”

“who”

“Who who?”

“hold on a sec.”

The voice behind the door waited patiently. Sans burned the grenade in his hand for a few seconds before lobbing it.

“I think I heard an owl around here somewhere.”

Sans was rewarded with that wonderful laughter from the other side of the door. He had mostly come to peace with the fact that he technically still had to do his job, and he knew that even after every last puzzle threat was neutralized, those who had seen him work would expect him to continue. He probably couldn’t pull off the system if they gave him anything that magic couldn’t take care of. But that was alright. The only thing that bothered him about working was that it cut into the one-on-one time he spent with the voice behind the door. Sitting at his sentry station watching for something that just wouldn’t come was grueling, but at least he was on his own schedule, always just a walk away from a good conversation.

“How is your brother? You mentioned that he was trying to calibrate a particularly difficult lately. It sounded like a real endeavor.”

“oh yeah, my bro is great. its nice to have a puzzle that challenges him—besides the junior jumble, i mean”

The voice chuckled again. Sans took a moment to drink in the sound, then began piecing together how to proceed. He knew the voice didn’t like talking about anything relating to royalty; he had a hunch why, but it seemed like a sore subject, and the hunch was too speculative for him to act on.

“the roy—, uh, there’s a scientist named alphys. real nice gal, really sharp. she made this absurd puzzle, and its taking a lot of time to really unravel it. my bro thinks he can take out the dangerous stuff and replace it, though”

“What kind of puzzle is it?”

“ok so you get on a floor of colored tiles, like something out of a disco hall. red tiles are impassible. yellow tiles are electric. if you step on a green tile you have to fight a monster. if you step on an orange tile you start to smell like oranges, which is peachy keen until you get to the blue tiles with the piranhas—“

“I don’t think I can follow your explanation.”

“its ok, neither can i. my shift’s gonna start soon, i need to get going. man, sometimes i wish i could hang out here forever”

“Don’t be silly. I’m flattered you think I’m that good for conversation, but I would run out of things to say rather quickly. I lead a quiet life here, which doesn’t lend itself to adventure. Besides, you would be so cold out there!”

“i can take it”

“If you say so. But remember, you still have your job to do and your brother to look after. If you stayed here and didn’t leave, you would be neglecting your responsibilities.”

“eh, responsibility doesn’t look too flattering on me”

“Well said. It doesn’t look good on anyone, really. But you mustn’t forget what you have to do. Take care, friend.”

“…i will. you too, ok?

“Of course.”

 

 

They’re right, he thought as he slid back into Waterfall from the time stream. After such a long time of indifference, the idea of taking responsibility, keeping things in line—it sounded so strange. When he thought of Papyrus and the voice behind the door, though, he felt like he could do it. That doesn’t mean it won’t be hard to stay motivated, though. Especially with the resets…

Sans paused for a moment. Something felt off about his station. Deep in his bones he felt… strange. Had he changed something here without remembering last time he came by? Adjusted the height of the seat? He looked down to see what the problem was.

Sans was clipping through a piano.

He barely had time to register what was going on when the invisible force threw him straight up out of the instrument and onto its top surface. Sans gaped blankly into space. How could this be possible? He knew the magic on the chairs still held—he had woven it to hold up for the long haul. They should be virtually unmoveable. The piano had been sitting in an alcove across the cavern for a week now; Undyne kept making excuses in a last ditch effort to cling to her favorite puzzle, and no one had dared budge it, especially not when she was around. He was proud of her, honestly; she was avoiding responsibility like a natural. But that didn’t matter. What mattered was why would the piano be at my station?

Also, why was the piano moving?

It was rolling. The majestic instrument was making its final encore; it was already halfway down a rain-slicked rock face when Sans snapped out of his internal dialogue. Disoriented, he tried to find a point of reference to gauge where he was. There was none. He was already moving too fast to pick out a spot, and the piano was rapidly gaining speed. He found himself getting sick looking at the picturesque Waterfall scenery whizzing by in a blur and tucked his head into his chest, trying not to throw up. Should he roll off? What would that do to him at this speed? He could try to stop the thing with magic, but he wouldn’t be able to stop himself at the same time. The momentum would fling him halfway across Waterfall. He closed his eyes tightly and clung for dear life; after being entirely sedentary for almost four months, any movement was alien to him, much less this death trap of a toboggan. The speed was barely fathomable to him. Nothing about this situation made sense.

The rush of water was shocking to the touch. Sans was sure he had never felt this cold in his life, and he lived in Snowdin. The skeleton found himself spinning wildly along with his vessel, senses assaulted by roiling torrents of water. The piano overturned in the rapids, and suddenly Sans was pinned underwater by a few hundred pounds of wood and ivory. He struggled futilely against the current, thirsting for air, but he was held back. He couldn’t swim. A group of monsters nearby watched silently as the grand old instrument careened down the river, dragging Sans undertow. As it shot downstream and out of sight, one of the monsters turned to their friend.

“This is why puzzles are dangerous.”

Blue is water. You can go in it as long as you don’t smell like oranges. It’s ok if you smell like lemon though. I don’t think I smell like anything right now, besides burnt cinnamon maybe. Why did the time stream smell that way? There was no way to tell. Gravity felt strange around him; he was sinking, clothes waterlogged, but at the same time the river was pushing him upwards against something, telling him to get out. Groping clumsily, he felt a wooden surface brush his phalanges before it floated out of reach. You can do magic, remember Sans? Give it a shot. It was impossible to tell in the shifting current, but his hand was glowing a dark blue. Grab anything. He felt the wooden surface come rushing to meet his grasp, and this time it stuck to his hand, as though there was a magnetic force holding them together. After what felt like an eternity, the skeleton managed to pull himself up, gasping for breath as he broke the surface. He let his mind go blank for a few seconds as he drank in the fresh air. Do skeletons need to breathe air? He should ask one sometime.

Almost drowning takes its toll on a monster. It took Sans a minute to ground himself on the makeshift vessel and get his bearings, water pouring out of his eye sockets and down his spine. He pushed against the pure white keys with his slipper as he struggled to climb to the top, drawing strange, muted notes out of the piano. The river had slowed down considerably, but the cruise was by no means leisurely. Still, by the time he had recovered, there something to work with. The trial by fire had breathed some life into his sluggish frame, and he was starting to remember what sorts of magic he was capable of. Teleportation was out of the question; in this frazzled state, he could turn up anywhere. Sans remembered feeling the piano inside him, himself inside the piano. It hadn’t been a particularly pleasant experience. The past couple of minutes had proved that swimming was out of the question, but he might be able lift himself to dry land with his magic, or at least direct the piano…

Suddenly the floor dropped from under him, and he was floating in midair. Everything was moving so slowly; he pivoted gracefully in the air, as though he was in bullet time, and looked back at where he had just been. Oh yeah. Now I remember why this place is named Waterfall. He looked down to see the piano spiraling out of control, heading straight for the pool of frothy water waiting for them at the surface. He could see why Undyne had wanted to protect it; it really was a nice instrument, even if it had technically killed him. He spied two figures near the bank of the pool, doing… something? They were rapidly becoming larger, and when he squinted the water and tears out of his eyes, speak of the devil! He saw Papyrus and Undyne, doing some light sparring. A word floated up to the forefront of Sans’ mind: responsibility. It felt like ages since that conversation had taken place, back when he wasn’t half drowned and freefalling from a cliff ten stories tall. In reality, had been about three minutes. Time really is an enigma, the skeleton thought reverently. Then he heard a sickening crack, and before the splitting pain could register in his mind he was out cold.

“Oh my god! Sans, what happened? Are you ok?”

Sans felt soft grass beneath his back. It made a great contrast to the horrible pain radiating from every part of his body. He didn’t want to open his eyes yet.

“i don’t want to open my eyes yet”

“THAT’S ALRIGHT SANS! ALL THAT MATTERS IS THAT YOU’RE GOING TO BE ALL RIGHT! AFTER ALL, SLEEPING GIVES YOU EXTRA HP, SO YOU SHOULD BE GOLDEN.”

“We gave you the once-over earlier, and you look pretty frickin’ good for someone who just fell down a waterfall.”

It was so nice to hear Papyrus’ voice, but Sans hated the worry it carried, sick with anxiety. He had been so, so stupid, and now he was hurt and people were worrying about him. He hated when people worried about him.

“…did i pass out? i don’t remember anything after… impact”

Undyne and Papyrus looked at each other.

“So, uh basically we were down here sparring because we needed a break from cooking—“

“—WE COULDN’T WRANGLE THE SPHAGETTI, SANS! IT WANTED TO BE FREE!”

“Yeah, and suddenly I see this huge thing falling, and then there’s you, and I realize it’s you and the piano, and—“

“—AND WHEN YOU REACHED THE BOTTOM YOU LANDED ON THE PIANO AND THERE WAS A BAD SOUND AND WE WERE BOTH REALLY REALLY SCARED. WE RAN OVER TO MAKE SURE YOU WERE ALL RIGHT—“

“—And oh man, you were muttering something about chairs? Chariel? I thought you had lost it, your pupils were straight up gone but you were definitely still moving, we both unloaded our healing magic on you, which wasn’t much—“

“AND THEN YOU SAT UP AND YELLED SOME… CHOICE WORDS, AND THEN YOU FELL DOWN AGAIN, SO WE TRIED TO ROLL YOU OVER TO FIGURE OUT WHERE YOU WERE HURT THE MOST—“

“—It’s your ass crack, Sans. You literally have an ass crack right now.”

That would be hilarious if you weren’t writhing in agony Sans. He hoped he could remember this conversation. It was wild.

“…DON’T THINK ABOUT THAT TOO MUCH. IT WON’T BE A PROBLEM, THE BONE WILL MEND. WE’VE GOT DOCTORS COMING, AND I THINK ALPHYS KNOWS A LITTLE BIT ABOUT PUTTING MONSTERS BACK TOGETHER.”

“that’s… that’s real great paps. i’m glad you’re ok”

“ME, THE GREAT PAPYRUS? YOU ARE THE ONE WHO YOU SHOULD BE WORRYING ABOUT, SANS! I DIDN’T JUST BREAK A PIANO IN HALF WITH THE FORCE OF IMPACT.”

“oh yeah… sorry for messing up your piano, undyne. you did go home and play something, right?”

“Yeah, I played that song from when you came to the cooking lesson. Remember?

Sans’ eye sockets widened slightly. He had assumed Undyne didn’t even realize he was there, let alone notice him. It had felt so awkward… maybe he was the anti-social one in that situation. Still, that song… he was glad Undyne was still playing it. Someone, somewhere should hear it. He kept trying to remember things as a distraction from the fire emanating from his cracked pelvis.

“wait. how did that piano get where it was? it was in the alcove, and then suddenly it was on my station”

Undyne pulled a guilty look.

“I couldn’t put off the inevitable, so I had to move it out of the way to prepare for the destruction. It couldn’t stay in the alcove any longer, and your station was the perfect spot to leave it. Sorry, dude.”

“no. i mean, how did you move my chair?”

“…I picked it up? And moved it?”

Sans knew Undyne was strong, but this was next level. The binding magic on those chairs was the strongest stuff he could muster; no one should have been able to break through that. He hoped he would never have to go toe-to-toe against her. 

“Don’t worry, we’ll set up a new post for you. I’ll even pay for it myself, as thanks for taking out my piano in THE COOLEST WAY EVER! It was plummeting, just like in the human history tapes, and then it hit the water and made this HUUUGE tidal wave, and then you just straight SNAPPED IT IN HALF with your BUTT. That was stone cold, man.”

“of course it was. you know what they call me, right?”

“…Stone Cold Sans?”

“REGULAR SANS?”

“…an idiot.”

 

 

The small child made their way along the path, gazing in wonder at the flora around them. Even this deep underground, life could still bloom so verdantly. Waterfall was their favorite spot yet; the blue tones reflecting off the walls were calming, and the local monsters were a lot of fun when they weren’t trying to wash them. They moved up the path and spotted cerulean blue flowers with long, thin stems peppering the area. These must be the special flowers that guy was talking about back at the border of Snowdin. Hardly daring to believe, the child stooped down and put an ear to the flower, remaining completely silent. The rivers crisscrossing the plain ran quietly, the perfect accompaniment for the secrets the flowers held. The child listened for a few moments, then lit up with a smile and went to check the others. The flowers really did remember. They started searching for more, hungering for more echoes of the past. A line of them seemed to hold a conversation from long, long ago. The child listened all the way through. They were confident the two friends would get their wish and see the stars someday. Poking their head through a stand of thick shrubs, the child watched with awe as the waterfall spilled torrents of water into the pool below, which boiled, bubbled, and eventually smoothed out, seamlessly transitioning into a river. They squatted and put an ear to the echo flower on the bank. After listening for a moment, the child’s face took on a look of confusion, brows knitted, lips drawn tightly together. This flower was louder than the rest, and the child didn’t know any of the words it had recorded. A feeling in their gut told them they probably shouldn’t, either, but they were curious, as all children are. They stood and skipped out of the enclosure, back on the path to the town of Waterfall proper. They’d ask their friend Sans about the words next time he was around.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for the kudos and the kind comments everyone! They really mean a lot to me. This began life as a shitpost about Sans falling down flights of stairs a la Sweet Bro and Hella Jeff, and I'm happy people could get enjoyment out of it. The actual game is so ridiculously funny that there's no want for material, and it's a ball being able to embellish on such great, well-developed characters. Toby really hit it out of the park.
> 
> If you ever feel like trying your hand at writing something funny, go for it! I basically just threw every stupid idea I had into this, like the marshmallow trident, with no idea whether or not it would be funny. It's really enjoyable and cathartic, and if you come up with enough jokes some of them are bound to be good! I'd love to see more funny Undertale fics.


End file.
